Saturday Morning
by awesomesen
Summary: Hokuto comes back to life. Kinda. [chapter thirteen: 'the time has come,' the walrus said, 'to speak of many things...']
1. Saturday Morning

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Hokuto came back from the dead on Saturday, September 18th, 1999, at exactly 10:34 AM. The feeling was like the opposite of a dripping egg. The slime was all there, mucus-thick, but it ran up her body instead of down, gathering and the tip of her head and then slamming down, sudden wet cold, through her skull. Hokuto shuddered. Then she looked around. 

Place: A park, to judge by the coloring trees, the carefully spaced benches, the thinning grass speckled with dead leaves, and the happy yelling of children somewhere close. Time: As established, early morning. Smell: Leaves, grass, dirt—oil, metal, cement, exhaust. Wilting flowers and coppery blood. Water and bricks. A city. Hokuto thought it would be wonderfully appropriate if she popped back into being in the very place she had died, but that wasn't to be—she was standing under a tree, yes, but not a cherry tree, and certainly not an evil-people-eater of a tree. Maybe a maple. Hokuto wasn't sure.

She examined herself. To her mixed amusement and annoyance, Hokuto was wearing the same clothes she had died in, formal robes and beads and socks, and although the cloth was unbroken (she patted her chest thoughtfully, nope, no holes there, either), it was stained rather satisfyingly with blood. But the total effect was more "horror movie extra" then "ghost here to haunt you," which was the slightly irritating part. Really, if you were to appear in bloodstained clothing, couldn't you at least look gruesome? Hokuto might as well have shown up in something fashionable.

She didn't feel like a ghost. She was confused, certainly, but in a rather alive sort of way. She had a small sore on the inside of her cheek, the sort that Hokuto kept wanting to prod at with her tongue. She had a little scratch on one finger, mostly healed over, slightly red. Her hair was scratching the back of her neck. Her sash was tied a little too tight. None of this seemed very fitting of the dead, did it? Hokuto was breathing. Hokuto's heart (she checked, carefully counting her pulse) was beating normally. She just happened to have popped back into existence somewhere in what was probably Tokyo, sometime that was probably a good while after she had been killed (Hokuto didn't know yet that the year was 1999, but she did know that she had died in the late spring, and it was obviously fall).

"I need new clothes," she murmured. Her voice still worked. Hokuto was getting tired of taking stock of herself under the maybe-maple. She walked down the grass, down a small rise (her feet still worked, her legs did too), onto a brick path that wound pleasingly around trees and grass and past conveniently placed benches. It didn't occur to her to look for Subaru, because she had forgotten he had ever existed.

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Kamui had been in a bad mood ever since Subaru had vanished, and as such some of his bad temper had decided to make itself heard. In his opinion, Tokyo sucked, the Seals sucked, everything was failing (and sucked), there was no way the Seals could be everywhere at once, which sucked, and also if Sorata tried _one more time_ to cheer him up with food, Kamui would violently and painfully murder him. He had begun to detail the ways Sorata would meet his demise, but Arashi had whacked Kamui over the head ("grow up," she had added in that violent tone of voice she usually saved for monks), Sorata took her saving of him as a sign of her liking him, and then everything had pretty much fallen apart. 

Yuzuriha had gone to Karen, who had intervened with a combination of motherliness and cheerful threats of her own, while Aoki hovered in the background, possibly taking notes—that or thanking heaven that he only had one child, not four idiot teenagers with the powers of lightning, holy swords, dog demons, and—oh, yeah—God Himself at their disposal.

In the end, after much debate and usage of the word suck (some rather creative as Kamui had a talent for swearing when it came to that), a new strategy was presented to the Now-Six Seals. Everyone was given a cell-phone and a section of Tokyo. If anyone so much as glimpsed at one of the Harbingers or if the earth moved even an inch, they would use said cell phones to call everyone else. That way, with luck, they could catch the Dragons of Earth before the act, instead of during. With luck. Lots of luck.

They drew parts of the city randomly, and put their plan into action that Saturday, the eighteenth. It was a beautiful morning.

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**(to be continued)  
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	2. Ice Cream

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The first person Hokuto ran into was an old woman, who was resting from shopping and happy to talk to Hokuto about the recently-alive-again girl's odd clothing and everything else. Hokuto within fifteen minutes of sitting next to the old biddy on a bench had learned the names of the woman's children and grandchildren, but also that the year was 1999, the place was Tokyo, and that there had been one hell of an earthquake problem recently. The old woman thought it must be the end of the world. Hokuto thought, interesting. Something about that seemed familiar, but she didn't care to try and place it. 

She excused herself. The woman told her to wear some better clothes (you're ruining those robes, girlie. Didn't your parents ever teach you not to wear formal dress if you're going to spill food over them?). Hokuto told her it was actually blood, not sauce, and went back on her way.

The second person Hokuto ran into was a boy. He was tall and somewhat messy looking, but he was also eating and that was the more important part. Hokuto now knew that she had been dead eight years, and figured she was more then deserving of a meal.

Plus, he was a teenaged boy, and she was a cute teenaged girl. Hokuto still had enough confidence in her abilities as such a creature to figure on getting the boy to shell out some money for a snack or, hey, lunch—breakfast? Hokuto wasn't sure yet what time of day it was exactly.

And anyway, if he didn't fall for her cuteness, she could always try to scare him out of the cash with the whole bloody-robes thing.

It was obviously a win-win situation.

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Sorata had done the victory dance when he had drawn Taito prefecture, because Taito meant Ueno, and what better way was there to spend his Saturday morning then lazing around a park, obstinately patrolling for the Dragons of Earth? Really, there was no way they'd attack a park, so Sorata figured he basically had won himself the day off Okay, so maybe they'd show up somewhere else in the area—Akihabara or something—but Sorata doubted it, and certainly wasn't going to let it ruin his mood.

It was a shame Arashi had drawn a completely different part of the city, but what could you do? Sorata bought an ice-cream from a machine, even though it wasn't yet eleven, and was planning to head to the zoo (he heard they had a panda), when he noticed the girl.

Oddly, he didn't notice her bloody clothes until after he noticed that she looked weirdly familiar. Sorata was sure he had never seen her before (he had a good memory for pretty people), but maybe he'd met her cousin or sister or something once. At that point he took in her bloody clothes, and thought vaguely that (except for the blood) the robes themselves looked like something Subaru might wear, if he was in the mood to wear formal clothes. Even though Sorata was actually completely right in this conclusion, and would have saved himself a lot of trouble later if he kept it in mind, he promptly forgot about it for one very simple, natural reason: The girl was eying his ice-cream. Hungrily.

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There were no tape recorders present at the time. Had there been, the transcript would have probably been written as follows:

BOY: Stop staring at my ice cream!

GIRL: Then buy me one so I don't have to!

BOY: I'm broke.

GIRL: That's very inconsiderate of you.

BOY: Yeah, probably… Sorry.

GIRL: My name is Hokuto, and you can call me Hokuto-chan if you want.

BOY: Okay. By the way, what's with the clothes?

HOKUTO: I'm from an Onmyouji clan, and until an hour ago I was dead.

BOY: My name's Sorata, and you can call me Sora-chan if you want.

HOKUTO: Are you sure you're broke?

SORATA: Yeah. Hey, have you ever heard of someone named Sumeragi?

HOKUTO: Yes. Me.

SORATA: I changed my mind, I'm not broke after all. Don't take this the wrong way, since I have a girlfriend, or I will when she agrees to date me, but want to go out for breakfast?

HOKUTO: Very much so.

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In retrospect, Sorata probably should have just given her his ice-cream and run.

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**(to be continued)**


	3. Over Breakfast

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They ended up in a McDonald's that didn't believe in breakfast menus, so Sorata had a limp hamburger and Hokuto a rather disgustingly large portion of French-fries with nori flavoring, a powder sprinkled over them. They sat across from each other in a booth padded with foam covered by shiny red plastic. After Hokuto had eaten three French-fries, Sorata decided the time was right to ask her a few questions.

"Your name is Hokuto Sumeragi," he said. "And you're dead."

"No, I'm alive, but I was dead," Hokuto said, nibbling politely at a fourth fry. "It's a fine but distinct difference."

"How did you die?"

"I was murdered," Hokuto said, with relish. "I'm thirsty."

Sorata presented her with a crumpled 1,000 yen note. "But this time," he added, "I really am broke. You said you were murdered? I'm thirsty too, so get me a cola."

Hokuto returned with the drinks after a minute. People still stared at her, but not because of the blood—Sorata, being the infinitely gentlemanly person he was, had given her his jacket. It, being blue and too long even for him, did a good job in covering her beads and blood stains, but still revealed enough of the robes underneath to let people wonder. And she was skipping, which helped.

Sorata was wearing a tee-shirt with PIRATES written across the front in roman letters, although his English wasn't very good and he didn't know that. He just thought it looked exotic. It was getting too cold to walk around in just a tee-shirt, though, and Sorata considered taking Hokuto back home, so that he could get a new jacket. He never considered acting without Hokuto in tow. The second she had called herself Sumeragi, he had both believed her and started to think of her as some sort of cute teenaged girl honorary Seal type thing.

Except with even less eloquence.

"How did you die?"

"Eight years ago," Hokuto said dramatically, "I went to Ueno Park. Alone. At night. Under the cherry trees, we met—I, an adorable girl, and he—all bad-ass and sunglasses and chain smoking. He was—"

"The Sakurazukamori?"

"I was telling!" Hokuto pouted as she drank her lemonade. "How did you know?"

"We've met," Sorata said, "kinda. He was like, my mortal enemy or something. Or maybe he was Subaru-san's mortal enemy, but Subaru-san is sort of a friend, in a maniacally depressed way. Also, he's a Harbinger. The Sakurazukamori, I mean. Well, maybe Subaru-san too, but Kamui doesn't believe it. I don't either, actually. Why did he kill you?"

Hokuto took a minute to process that paragraph. "Who's Subaru-san?"

"The head of the Sumeragi Clan," Sorata said promptly. Something dawned on them both at the same time. "You don't know him?" Sorata asked, at the same time that Hokuto said, "I don't know him."

"I've spoken once with the old clan head," Sorata said, confused. "She told me that Subaru-san was the 13th Head."

"You spoke with my grandmother?" Hokuto asked. "But she's the head."

"She's Subaru-san's grandmother, I thought."

"I'm an only child!" Hokuto insisted highly. Sorata raised his hands, palms towards Hokuto in a symbol of peace. Then he stole one of her french-fries.

"Let's think logically," he said hopefully. "Subaru-san says he's the Sumeragi clan head. He said that the old Head was his grandmother, and when I talked to her she said that he was the Head. He's an Onmyouji, I know that. He recently had this gigantic death-match with the Sakurazukamori. Which he technically won, because the Sakuazukamori's dead. But Subaru-san's been missing since the day after—uh, it's been about two weeks."

"Sei-chan's dead?" Hokuto said, frowning.

"...Sei-chan?"

"Seishiro Sakurazuka. The Sakurazukamori." Hokuto took a deep breath. "Okay, here's my story. I'm an only child. I was raised in Kyoto, but never really had much magic ability, so I never became clan Head. My grandmother remained in that position. We'd never gotten along well, so when I was sixteen I moved to Tokyo and began to go to school at the CLAMP Campus." She poked at her French-fries, using one as a spear against the others. "I ran into Sei-chan one day, and we got to be friends. When I knew him for about a year, I went to Ueno Park, and he killed me."

"For going to Ueno Park?" Sorata asked.

"I don't... remember..." Hokuto said slowly, frowning deeply. "I... I remember I had to go, there was something really... not like a spell or command, but I was burning up with hatred. Sei-chan had done something to me, but I don't remember what. So I dressed in these clothes and went to Ueno Park one night. And that's when he killed me. Next thing I know, I'm here. And alive."

"I think they're boy's clothes."

"I found them in my closet." Hokuto said. "This is weird. Is memory loss normal when you come back from the dead?"

"Maybe..." Sorata replied. "Here's an idea. After you died, Subaru-san was adopted in your place, to hide the fact that the Sakurazukamori had killed the clan's heir—"

"Right!" Hokuto said. "So Grandmother says this Subaru is her grandson because she adopted him. And that's why he's clan head, and an Onmyouji—and Sei-chan probably fought him because of his clan's rivalry with ours. But... Sei-chan was very powerful. Some... adopted head couldn't just..."

Sorata nodded. In truth, he wasn't too sure about this theory of Hokuto's—sure, he wasn't exactly close to Subaru (Subaru sort of gave him the creeps, honestly), but he had never had reason to distrust him. And why had he never mentioned Hokuto, then? "You know," he said, "we might be missing information. But some of the people I live with—Kamui especially—they know Subaru better."

"It's nice of you to just help me like this," Hokuto said. "Especially since I used to be dead."

"Well, uh, I've seen weirder," Sorata admitted, then grinned. "Anyway, today's my day off."

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	4. Fashion

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"Sora-kun," Hokuto complained, frowning at her reflection in the floor-length mirror, "your friends have really boring taste in clothes."

"Huh, really?" he replied, from the other side of the open doorway, out of sight but within speaking distance. He sounded thoughtful. "I dunno, I think Yuzuriha-chan dresses pretty cute. And 'Neechan..."

"Has really boring clothes," Hokuto repeated, sighing mournfully. She had picked between the girl's wardrobes, and even Kamui and Sorata's wardrobes, having agreed cheerfully that it was best to give Sorata back his jacket before he caught a cold and died or sneezed on her or something. And also get out of those bloody robes. She couldn't help at sigh at her final effort, however--a ruffled pink mini-skirt, a slightly-too-small white blouse, one of Kamui's jackets, and some admittedly cool black boots that the girl Sorata called "'Neechan" had had stuck in her closet. It was just... so boring...

Sorata and Hokuto hadn't forgotten about the Subaru mystery, really they hadn't. They had just sort of... put it aside in favor of more important things, like clothes. It was all about prioritizing. And besides, everyone else was still out, doing the work that Sorata was also technically supposed to be doing, but for the fact that there was still no way the Harbingers were going to attack a park.

_Seriously_.

And it just didn't seem fair to call up the others now, since they were still hard at work. They'd want to know about this thing with Hokuto, Sorata was sure, but they wouldn't want to hear it in terms of "while you were all busy working, I ate french-fries and talked to Ghost-chan." So really, it was best to just wait until they all returned home, and do what investigating they could in the meanwhile.

The fact that Arashi and Kamui especially would hate the idea of someone taking and wearing their clothes hadn't actually crossed Sorata's mind. He'd happily lend his clothes out to someone in need, why would it be different for anyone else? "Shirt off your back," or whatever.

"Okay," Hokuto said mournfully, stepping out of Yuzuriha's room, "I _guess_ I'm dressed."

"I think you look fine," Sorata said hopefully.

Hokuto looked dismayed. "Then you obviously have just as boring taste in clothes as your friends do, Sora-kun!"

"Well, anyway," Sorata said, unfazed, "about Subaru-san..."

Hokuto nodded. "Maybe we should call my grandmother."

"Yeah, good idea," Sorata said brightly, "you call her."

"...Wait, what do I say?" Hokuto exclaimed suddenly, a nervous twinge in her voice, "'Hi grandma, it's me, your dead granddaughter that isn't dead anymore! Why'd ya replace me with some Subaru guy, huh?'"

"Yeah, she's a pretty scary woman," Sorata said. "She might think it's a prank and curse you through the phone!" Both of them shuddered at the idea of an Onymouji curse sent through the phone.

"Well..." Hokuto said bravely, "We'll have to try it."

"Yeah," Sorata said, a look of determination crossing his features. "We gotta."

It took approximately two seconds for both of them to shudder violently in fear and give looks of dread to one another.

"I guess I know a couple protection spells..." Sorata.

"I think I know a few warding techniques..." Hokuto.

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"Do you think... that CLAMP Campus could be attacked?" Kamui asked Yuzuriha, thoughtfully.

"It has so many wards and stuff, though," Yuzuriha replied, tapping her finger against her chin and exchanging a look with Inuki. "And who'd want to attack it?"

"Yeah..." Kamui nodded. "I just... have a really bad feeling."

A stray feather flew by, shed by a pigeon and picked up by the breeze.

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	5. We're Going to Be Friends

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Sorata was the one who had to make the call in the end, Hokuto pointing out that her making the call would just lead automatically to curses through the phone-line, seeing as she was supposed to be dead and all. Besides, he'd spoken to the former head of the clan before without dying, which was probably a good sign.

Sorata flopped down on the couch with the cordless. Hokuto skipped off to the kitchen to make pancakes. Just like last time he had called the Sumeragi household, Sorata was put on hold for half an hour. Next time, he decided, he'd make it really official. Use all his titles. That prompted Sorata to start wondering what exactly his titles were. Was "sort of a monk from Kouya" an official job? _Hmm._

Needless to say, the half hour passed quickly.

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Arashi was the first of the Seals to arrive back. She had canvassed Akasaka all morning, to no effect. She was going to stop off back at CLAMP Campus for a quick lunch before returning, but she had her doubts, privately, that anything was going to happen. Akasaka had no landmarks that Arashi could remember, and it was close enough to the Tokyo Tower that she thought it might be safe. But all the same, Arashi was no slacker, and would spend all day there. Like planned.

As she bent to remove her shoes, she noticed Sorata's sneakers already in the doorway. Arashi was immediately suspicious, although she knew that was a little unfair. Sorata was usually fairly responsible about this sort of thing. He had probably had the same plan she had, to eat lunch at home. Yuzuriha and Kamui didn't seem to be back, though - they had drawn Chiyoda and Chuo, small prefectures next to one another, and had probably teamed up for the day. There was nothing wrong with that, in Arashi's opinion - it just meant that she'd have to have lunch with Sorata. And only Sorata.

It is difficult to blush from anticipation and get annoyed at the same time, but Arashi managed. It had been over six months since they had met, and even if she wouldn't dream of ever admitting it, Arashi didn't mind him quite as much as she felt she should.

Unconsciously, she brushed her hair back as she entered the house properly.

Sorata was flopped on the couch sideways, his knees dangling over the armrest on the end, a phone to his ear and a cross expression on his face. From the kitchen came the smell of cooking. Pancakes? And in the kitchen, someone female was singing loudly and off key a song Arashi recognized vaguely as a pop song from almost ten years ago.

"I'm back," she announced.

Sorata hadn't noticed her until then, and he looked surprised as he sat up. He grinned and said, "Welcome back," but with far less of his usual enthusiasm. His concentration was on the phone, not Arashi. This was new.

"Someone here?" the girl in the kitchen called. Arashi went to the kitchen, slightly annoyed, wondering who the guest was, why Sorata was so distracted, and why they were making pancakes.

Like Sorata, Arashi's first thought was that of slight familiarity. The girl was about her age but a little taller, with boyishly short hair, green eyes, and an amazingly mismatched outfit underneath the frilly pink apron she had tied on. Arashi wasn't sure what she had been expecting, and wasn't sure she had been expecting anything, but this girl still managed to surprise her. The strange girl stuck out her hand. "Hokuto-chan," she said by way of introduction. "Are you Yuzuriha or Arashi? Sora-kun's told me about you either way."

"...Arashi," she replied. Why was this Hokuto acting so familiar? Why had Sorata never mentioned her before, if they were friends? There were few people Arashi disliked on sight.

Hokuto, unfortunately, was one of them.

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Back in the living room, Sorata was having a little more luck with conversation than the girls were. He'd finally been connected to the old Sumeragi head. By now, his patience had dissolved into distraction and impatience, so rather then the formal, polite greeting he had planned upon, the first words out of his mouth were: "You're pretty rich, right? You really ought to look into spending that money on a better contact system."

Oops, he thought a second later. But the old lady was in a good mood, thankfully. "Arisugawa-san, correct?"

Too late did Sorata remember she knew where he lived. "Yeah. How are you?" he asked, rambling slightly. "Weather good? Over here it's nice, getting chilly, though. How's Kyoto?"

"I presume you have news beyond the weather." It wasn't phrased as a question.

"Yeah..." Sorata trailed off. From the kitchen he could hear Hokuto and Arashi chatting. If they were talking, that was a good sign. He hoped they could be friends, because he liked Hokuto-chan already and Arashi _was_ going to be his girlfriend someday. "About your grandchild..."

The woman's voice was suddenly tense. "You have news of Subaru-san?"

What kind of a lady refers to her grandson so formally, Sorata almost asked. "Um. No. Maybe. I mean, he's still missing. Kamui's really worried. But we haven't heard anything..."

"I see." She sounded sad. Sorata felt bad for her.

"It's about... um," Sorata tried to find a tactful way to word it. This conversation was awkward, but there had been no cursing yet - he didn't want to mess up now. "Have you ever heard of someone called 'Hokuto-chan?'"

Lady Sumeragi was silent for a long, scary minute. "Why?"

"Well..." Sorata said, "To start with, there's a girl calling herself Hokuto Sumeragi in my kitchen right now, cooking pancakes." The rest of the story quickly followed.

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And the clocks struck twelve. The morning was over. Somewhere red, Subaru opened his eyes - and gently smiled.

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	6. Knock on Wood

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The fact that Hokuto had decided to call Arashi, "Arashi-chan" wasn't helping in the long run, but Hokuto couldn't help it. She was quickly stumbling onto a fact that Sorata already well knew and exploited: the fact that Arashi was just plain _fun_ to tease. The downside was that Hokuto wasn't in love with Arashi, and therefore had far less of a desire to hold back.

There was just something about Arashi, the way she was so clearly reluctant to say anything despite the fact she was clearly uncomfortable--maybe it was a little mean of Hokuto, but at the same time it felt really nicely familiar.

Sorata had been talking to Hokuto's grandmother for nearly an hour now. Every time Hokuto tried to overhear, he seemed to be listening and agreeing--to whatever was being said. This somehow was more... serious than she had anticipated. No point in thinking about it. Sorata'd tell her in the end. Hokuto hummed a snatch of a pop song as she mixed more batter, Arashi eying her as if making pancakes was actually something terrible and cruel to do at lunchtime. "They won't hurt you," Hokuto said, nodding her head over at the platter of pancakes already cooked, waiting for the butter in the pan to melt as she stirred. "And it'll be good for you to eat a proper meal for once."

Arashi flinched backwards - that was an unintentional hit. Hokuto didn't notice, and dropped the spatula on the counter to lick at gooey fingers. Now where did _that_ come from? Hokuto had a nagging feeling it was from something else forgotten, some part of her missing past.

"Just who are you, anyhow?" Arashi asked coolly, suspicious. "Sorata-san has never mentioned you before."

Because he only met me two hours ago, Hokuto didn't say. As a favor to him, she cracked a grin and raised her eyebrows at Arashi - "Why? You jealous?"

Hokuto giggled as Arashi flushed red. "No," the girl said firmly.

"Good," Hokuto announced, "because Sora-kun is _cute_." She did think so, but in a fond and purely platonic way. She had the feeling that to date Sorata would be to date someone a little too similar to her. Instead, she was starting to consider ways to dress him better -- she'd never had someone so tall to clothe before, she was used to smaller -- Hokuto frowned at her pancakes, and didn't even remember to check Arashi's reaction. Did all these false starts mean she was starting to remember? She hadn't been alive for so long, yet. It didn't seem impossible.

But Hokuto already knew how she had died. Seishiro had -- _you broke our vow_ -- Something twisted abstractly in her chest. Arashi had to turn the stove off for her, to save the pancakes from burning.

For the first time - as unlikely as Hokuto admitted it seemed - but for the first time, she wondered why she had died, why she had come back... and if she really wanted to know either of those things, anyway.

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"I see," Sorata said again, for the tenth time at least. It was all he could think of to say, some vague statement of understanding. He had described Hokuto to her grandmother, described her clothes and mannerisms and the way she spoke - and the Sumeragi head had replied with a story of her own. Sorata had millions of questions, but didn't want to ask. For the first time in his life, he wasn't sure what words to use.

This was why Subaru was like that. This was why the Sakurazukamori was involved. This was why--his head hurt. It was like with Kamui but somehow worse; this was how Kamui might _be_, Sorata was realizing slowly. Subaru had always put him off a little in the past, but Sorata was fond of Kamui as a person as well as a savior - the ideas combined, of Kamui becoming Subaru or Subaru having been Kamui - they were making a mess of his head.

"You haven't heard from him at all?" Sorata asked, once the woman had finished speaking.

"Just once," she replied.

Sorata's face went blank again as he listened to her explanation of her grandson's last visit. "I see," he said, pointlessly, untruthfully, glancing towards the kitchen. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, slowly. "Arisugawa-san..."

"I won't tell her," Sorata promised. This sort of thing was usually against his principles - secret keeping, secret keeping from the person to who the information would effect most - but - "I understand. I'll see if I can do anything."

"Don't go to such trouble for my clan's sake," Sumeragi replied. "I thank you, but this is a matter best left to me and my family." The faintest of hesitations before the last word.

Sorata ignored her. "Can you recognize my messenger if I create one for you? It's a faster way to get in contact, but you'll probably have wards against them." A safer way as well, but he didn't say something so obvious.

"You are preparing for battle," Sumeragi replied. Her tired sigh filled the space between them for what felt like an age "I can do what you ask. Arisugawa-kun, do not get involved. I beg this of you."

"Yup," Sorata said. "But I'd like to be her friend, and I have an advantage in fighting."

"You are a Seal, but that will make no difference in this case."

"A different advantage," Sorata said, hardly believing that he could call it that. "Don't worry. I don't plan on doing any fighting, just keeping an eye on Hokuto-chan for ya. It'll blow over by the end of the week, I bet. She'll be in Kyoto by next Saturday morning."

She chuckled tiredly. "I appreciate your optimism. May you have nothing but success."

"Don't worry," Sorata said, brightly, not noticing the burning smell from the kitchen, "I'm a pretty lucky guy."

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	7. Love, Love, Hate

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The moment Sorata entered the kitchen, the two girls turned to glare at him. For just a moment he was struck by their appearances: Hokuto, short haired, pouting, wearing a frilly pink apron that belonged to Yuzuriha, and Arashi: long haired and angry, her school uniform black and starched.

"_Sorata-kun_," Hokuto said, "What did my grandmother _say _that took you so long?" Arashi had looked like she was going to speak, but instead she turned, frowning, to the sink.

"Um, you know, this and that. A dash of one thing and another. A few things here and there," Sorata said quickly.

"You're mixing up your expressions," Hokuto said cheerfully, abandoning her pout. "I think that's a sign of dishonesty. I made pancakes. Arashi-chan helped."

"Arashi...chan...?" Sorata wasn't sure what he thought about the nickname. On one hand, it was cute, but on the other, Arashi was sure to dislike it, and he wasn't sure if he could approve of anyone _else_ annoying her. He remembered that she was in the room--it was funny and a little scary how Hokuto seemed to fill the room with her presence to the extent of the exclusion of anyone else. "Hey, Neechan. Are you making friends with Hokuto-chan?" he asked her, uneasily putting that thought aside.

She glowered at the pan she was washing. "Sorata-san. Tell me right now. What are you up to?"

"I--um," Sorata said, uncertain exactly how to explain it in a way that wouldn't result in her automatic disapproval.

"None of your business, Ara-chan," Hokuto said loudly, taking a platter of burnt pancakes in both hands. "The pancakes are getting cold. Let's eat up, and you can tell me about Grandmother."

"...Yes." Sorata said with reluctance. Arashi was already angry with him. And as much as he hated it, this whole thing with Hokuto was shaping up to be more important than Arashi angry with him again. "Okay." Unhappiness didn't suit him, so he cracked a grin as he followed the short-haired girl out to the dining room. "But didn't we just eat a little while ago at McDonalds?"

"I haven't eaten in eight years," Hokuto replied, humming.

Arashi, stuck washing dishes, decided that she hated Hokuto.

* * *

x x x

* * *

The Lady Sumeragi sat immobile, her eyes fixed on a spot in the distance, for nearly an hour after Arisugawa called. A maid hovered by anxiously, not wanting to break the trance, but not sure if it would be polite or proper to leave.

At last, she shifted her position in her wheelchair, her eyes coming into sharp focus. "Has anyone heard from Takeo-sama?"

"...Not for several days, Sumeragi-sama," the maid replied. "However, that's not unusual."

"I see." The old woman closed her eyes, suddenly weary to the depths of her bones. "Contact him, if you can."

* * *

x x x

* * *

_What would you give to bring back the dead?_

* * *

x x x

* * *


	8. Undeath

_...so i broke three of my toes and found myself sitting around a lot; thus the amazingly fast update. the plot is actually starting to take precedence over the crack, for which i apologize. _

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x x x

* * *

"Takeo-san?" Hokuto repeated.

Sorata nodded. "Yeah. When I told your grandmother that you were alive again--or anyway, that you were a girl named Sumeragi Hokuto--or whichever--anyway, she asked me if I had ever heard of someone named Katsurazaki Takeo-san. I said no."

Hokuto frowned, putting her fingers to her temples. "The name sounds a little familiar, but..." she sighed loudly. "This is starting to _suck_. I can't remember _anything_."

"...No," Sorata said, skirting the boundary between what he felt obligated to say to a friend and what he had promised the old Sumeragi Head he'd keep secret. "That is, you remember most things, right? About how you died."

"But I've never even _heard _of anyone named Subaru," Hokuto snapped. "It's my memory that's the problem. I'm sure of it. Maybe we're being too casual," she added glumly, poking at her cold pancakes with her fork. "Something's weird here, I can feel it. Can't you?"

"No," Sorata lied. He met Hokuto's gaze unwaveringly, and she broke it first, staring down at her plate. He felt bad; he hated lying to girls, or doing anything mean to girls, really. But even so, Sorata also understood the necessity of secrecy at times. He looked over her shoulder to the kitchen with another, sharper pang of guilt: Arashi was _still _in there, and that worried him. He should go apologize to her. Sorata didn't know what he had done to upset her, but he was sure there was something. There always was _something_, when he was as low in her favor as he was.

"It doesn't make sense for this Subaru person to have been adopted into the clan. So it's _my _memory that's the problem," Hokuto said, trying to hide her distress under matter of fact tones. "But why _would _it be? And there's another thing."

Was Arashi maybe angry because he had invited Hokuto over without asking? That might make sense, but it wasn't like Arashi to get offended over guests. Maybe Sorata should have explained the situation better to her, but he still wasn't sure that was the reason. It must be, he realized suddenly, that Arashi was angry at him for hanging out here instead of the city, as they all had planned. With a sinking feeling, Sorata realized he must be correct. To her it must look like he was being an idiot, shirking his duty. No wonder she was angry with him. Sorata didn't even hear Hokuto anymore, so concerned was he with making amends with Arashi.

"...I said, 'and there's another thing,'" Hokuto repeated loudly. Sorata looked up quickly to find her staring him down, her green eyes sharp. She looked like Subaru when determined, Sorata thought briefly.

"Huh? Sorry. What other thing?"

"Have you ever heard of anyone being brought back from the dead before?" she asked. "In a state like mine, I mean. Not as a spirit or temporary apparition."

Magical theory was something Sorata had some experience in. "Not in practice, but in theory. It's not something often undertaken, though," he said. "Just the amount of power needed would be pretty... huge."

"Like the amount of power the 13th Sumeragi Head might have?" Hokuto asked quietly.

Sorata shook his head. "No. Not even Subaru-san. I don't think even _Kamui_ has that much power. It would have to be gathered through other means, which would take some time... and by other means, I mean _people_. It's a pretty dark art."

"Like necromancy?"

"I guess. You'd have to kill a whole bunch of people, in certain ways, and you'd need the blood of the person you were trying to revive... or that of a close family member..." Sorata trailed off. "But I don't think it's possible. I've _heard _of it, but in the 'a cousin's friend's uncle' type of thing. No one has ever done it."

"But it's possible," Hokuto said emotionlessly.

"No," Sorata said firmly. "I spoke with your grandmother, remember? That was one of the things we talked about."

"If Subaru-san _is _part of the Sumeragi clan," Hokuto said impatiently, "then he's going to be related to me. That's 'blood of a relative,' isn't it?"

"Only if he killed himself," Sorata said, slightly impatient himself. "It's not a couple of drops. If Subaru-san is the one who brought you back, he'd have had to have killed himself to do so. And that's something he _wouldn't _do, since Kamui says that--" Sorata had the bad habit of almost saying too much. "Anyway, Subaru-san's still alive."

"You're hiding something." Hokuto didn't beat around the bush. Sorata didn't meet her eyes.

* * *

x x x

* * *

Karen had taken her lunch break in a small cafe, sitting outside with her coffee to enjoy the remains of the summer sun. She kept her eyes on the people around her, noting sadly how much the Tokyo crowds had thinned out -- soon, word was, evacuation would be mandatory, and then the city really _would _be empty. She saw no familiar faces among who she did see, which didn't surprise Karen: she had privately though that Kamui's plan to split up and canvas had its problems from the start. Not the least of which being the Dragons of Earth's abilities to foresee where they were and avoid them regardless... Karen sat up suddenly, her coffee sloshing dangerously in its cup.

"You--" Karen stood up, forgetting about the cafe as she hurried to follow the person she was sure she had just seen walk by, drenched in black and moving quickly. In a moment she was following him, avoiding the few other people on the sidewalks. "Subaru-san!" He didn't react so she called to him again, and this time he stopped in his tracks, slowly turning around to face her. Karen slowed down and smiled, relieved to see him. "Subaru-san. It is you. We've all been worried. Where have you _been_?"

"Where is she," Subaru said quietly, almost too quietly to be heard.

"Where is...?"

"She. Where is she?" Subaru glared at Karen. "Tell me."

"...Arashi-san? Yuzuriha-chan?" They were the only people Karen could think of that Subaru might be referring to.

"I need to know. I need to see her to know it works, before..." When Subaru spoke again, it was at a more normal volume. "Tell me where she is."

"_Who_?" Karen said, growing impatient. "Subaru-san, where have you been? Are you okay? You seem..." _out of it_. _crazy. weird. strange. _"Distracted."

"Kamui must have found her," Subaru said. "That's right, isn't it?"

She had completely lost the thread of the conversation, not that there really ever had been one to begin with. But, Karen thought, Kamui had been worried about Subaru for a long time. It might be good to let him see Subaru. Or to let Subaru see _him_. "Yes," she said. "That's right. Kamui has her."

* * *

x x x

* * *


	9. Clarity

_The next chapter will probably be up tomorrow. (laughs) Broken toes are annoying but sure act as motivators for writing, it seems. More relevantly, I've taken the "humor" tag off of the story, because SATMORN is officially a Story With Plot from here on out. I apologize sincerely and hope you will forgive me._

* * *

x x x

* * *

"Sorata-san," Arashi said calmly. "I need to talk to you." Her voice was like ice, and Sorata flinched before anything else. Hokuto looked over her shoulder at the other girl, eyebrows quirked in an expression of mild disbelief. Right when she was getting somewhere with Sorata, Arashi just _had _to butt in. There was still a lot Hokuto wanted to press from Sorata -- it hadn't escaped her notice that he hadn't really said all that much to her about what he'd learned on the phone -- and the last thing she wanted was for Sorata to get distracted. 

And if she'd picked up one thing about Sorata since their meeting a few hours ago, it was that Arashi was the quickest way to distract him. She tried to give Sorata a pleading look, but she might as well have been invisible. Sorata was at once on his feet, a sheepish expression on his face as he followed his would-be girlfriend into the kitchen.

With Sorata gone and otherwise distracted, Hokuto was now without _her _distraction, with nothing to keep her from thinking about things she didn't _want _to think about yet. Like Seishiro. She lost her appetite for her remaining pancakes, closing her eyes. Seishiro. And bloody robes. A vow. A mirror. Don't take him--or--don't go. Saltwater.

_If you go, then you'll--  
_

A name. Hokuto's eyes snapped open and she jumped to her feet, practically sprinting into the kitchen.

* * *

x x x

* * *

"I'm sorry," Sorata said before Arashi could even begin to berate him. She looked mildly surprised, but quickly hid the look with one of irritation. "I know what all of this looks like," he added quickly, having learned that it was best to make his case before she had a chance to speak, because Sorata could never seem to find the nerve to speak up after she had yelled at him. "But I'm _not _skipping work. Hokuto-chan is--it's not exactly what it looks like." 

Arashi was flushed red, eyebrows knitted. "Is that so."

"Yes. Really. Hokuto-chan is..." Sorata had promised the former Sumeragi head not to tell Hokuto certain things, but he hadn't made that same promise about Arashi. "--she's Subaru-san's sister."

Arashi looked mildly flustered at that; it hadn't been the answer she was expecting. "I thought his only sibling was a twin. And deceased."

"You know about her?" Sorata grimaced. "Man, why does everyone know this stuff but me?"

"Subaru-san has mentioned her," Arashi said, as if it was no big deal to have been told such things. Maybe it wasn't, but Sorata felt a rather irrational surge of jealousy all the same. "This is the same girl?"

"Yes. I found her earlier today. She has memory problems, but she's the same girl, all right." Sorata was relieved that Arashi didn't seem to be angry with him any more. "I felt bad for her, so I've been helping her out. She's pretty cute too, huh?" he grinned. "I kinda have the feeling we're pretty alike."

Arashi's thoughtful look was replaced with one Sorata decided was annoyance. "Don't worry, 'Neechan, I still like you best," he added. "There's no need to get jealous!" She pulled backwards, but at least Sorata could understand this sort of annoyance. He smiled at her, pretending that she actually was jealous; that he could be worth enough to her for that. "I'll alwayslike you best."

She turned away and he wanted to see her face, to try and see how angry she was with him. When he reached out to touch her face, Arashi flinched away, fists clenched. "Sorata-san," she said, softly: it was right at that moment that Hokuto burst into the kitchen, and for the briefest of moments Sorata hated her.

Then Arashi slapped Sorata's hand away, back to her usual demeanor. Sorata grinned over at Hokuto, but his smile faded slightly at the almost frantic expression on her face. "What's up?"

Hokuto hardly seemed to notice either of them. "Do you have any sleeping pills?"

* * *

x x x

* * *


	10. And Keep The Old

_...when i first started SATMORN, ages ago, i marveled at the lack of plot and began joking it was only a matter of time before i fell back to old habits, being an epic-'fic-writer by trade. (laugh) i'm the sort of person who can't write without a guideline. things aren't allowed to happen "just because," even in silly stories like this... so really, the crack humor aspect of SATMORN was doomed to fail from the start._

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x x x

* * *

"Maybe we should head back," Yuzuriha suggested cautiously. "You know?" She and Inuki watched Kamui patiently, watched as he paced back and forth in front of the bench they had been sitting on for the last hour. It had been his idea for the Seals to split up like this, and Yuzuriha knew it would be rude to mention that it had been a bad idea. Perhaps not a bad one, but an unthought one. But Kamui had only just recently started acting like a leader. Yuzuriha didn't want to be the one to criticize him.

The downside was that it was then that much harder to suggest they go home. "It's almost three. And you know, the Dragons of Earth have never once attacked past four or five in the afternoon," Yuzuriha said. "So maybe it's okay to go back home now. We can start dinner."

"No." Kamui stared into the distance stubbornly. "I'm not going home yet. _You_ can."

Yuzuriha hid a sigh. "I don't think anything is going to happen today."

"I do," Kamui said firmly.

"I..." Kamui's mobile began to ring before Yuzuriha could finish her statement. He answered it right away, ignoring Yuzuriha. He'd been reverting back to his annoying brat self lately, out of worry and frustration. "Hello?" Kamui paused for a fraction of a second. "Karen-san. What's wrong?"

Yuzuriha looked up, curious. Kamui frowned as he listened to Karen, licking his lip and then biting it. "Your voice sounds thick," he said. After a moment he added, "then go get some ice for it. I'll keep a look out. No. No, it'll be fine. Of course I can take care of myself." He paused for a fraction of a second, eyes narrowing. "I'm not alone, Yuzuriha is with me. Yes. Okay. I'll call again later. Bye." Kamui hung up abruptly, frowning deeply and staring at the phone in his hand.

"What's wrong?" Yuzuriha asked. Inuki's ears were low, she noticed without noticing; Inuki was a part of her, but Inuki was more then that, too. Inuki knew things that she didn't.

"Subaru." Kamui held his phone like he was about to throw it, but put it in his pocket again. "Subaru is on his way here. There might be a fight."

"Huh?" Yuzuriha leapt to her feet. "What do you mean?"

"He's looking for someone. His sister," Kamui said, looking like he couldn't decide if he was angry or worried. To him the emotions were much the same. "But she's dead."

"But why is he coming here? Hasn't he been missing? Was he with Karen-san?" Yuzuriha felt like she was out of the loop, and Inuki didn't seem to have any more insight on the situation. "What do you _mean_, there might be a fight?"

"Karen-san sent him here." Kamui was quiet for a moment. "Subaru thinks I have his sister."

"Karen-san told him you did?"

"I don't think she knew _what _she was doing." Kamui looked over at Yuzuriha, and then down at Inuki. "Go home," he said. "Call Sorata and Arashi, and get out of here. If it gets ugly, then..."

"Then I'm _staying_!" Yuzuriha said loudly, sitting back down hard on the bench. "You promised, remember? That you'd call on me in a battle. I'm one of the Seven Seals, after all."

"I don't want you or anyone getting involved in this. Not if it's Subaru." Kamui had the habit of, when he was trying to keep from appearing angry, stretching out his hands and fingers straight, the opposite of a fist. Now his fingers were practically shaking from the tension.

"If it's Subaru-san, there probably won't even be a fight," Yuzuriha said, her hand in Inuki's neck fur. "He's on our side."

"Not anymore." Kamui frowned at his feet. "Not really."

* * *

x x x

* * *

"Well, she's out," Sorata said, coming back downstairs. Kamui had sleeping pills left over from his last hospital stay, and he hadn't seen anything wrong with sharing them with Hokuto. He'd lead her to Arashi's room and watched, impressed, as Hokuto had dry-swallowed three pills and lain back down, eyes stubbornly closed to help the process along. He didn't understand why she so desperately needed a nap so suddenly, but Sorata hadn't gotten where he was in life by questioning every little thing.

Arashi was doing dishes again, her version of fidgeting. She ignored Sorata's re-entry into the kitchen as well as his words, and he watched her from his vantage point, slumped against the door-frame. "So since Hokuto-chan is asleep, we're technically alone," Sorata ventured. "Wanna do dirty stuff?" He barely avoided being hit in the face by the soapy sponge Arashi threw in his direction, admiring the wet spot it left on the wall and then floor. "You should join a sports team, 'Neechan."

"_Sorata-san_," Arashi said, making each syllable its own word to match her glare. "Be serious."

"But, I am," Sorata said with a straight face.

"Tell me what is going on here. All of it." Arashi was in no mood for joking around. "You're hiding details from even that girl, but you'll tell me."

"I promised I wouldn't," Sorata said.

Arashi stepped closer to him, wiping wet hands on her apron. "But you _will _tell me."

"Have you ever heard of a Katsurazaki Takeo-san?" Sorata asked. Arashi's facial expression didn't change, so he shrugged and picked the sponge up from the floor. "Yeah, me neither. Could you do me a favor, though, and find out who he is?"

"Is he important?" Arashi asked, taking the sponge from Sorata's hand. For just a second she lingered like that, arm outstretched towards him, before frowning and turning back to the sink.

"I think so." Sorata leant back against the door-frame. "Hokuto-chan doesn't remember much. About her life before. What she does remember is wrong, and she's starting to realize that." He closed his eyes. "Man, it's really complicated. I feel bad for her."

"You like her," Arashi said. "You've just met, and already you're..." she flushed angrily, realizing what she was saying. When he wasn't joking around like an idiot, Arashi tended to get carried away.

"Yeah," Sorata said, "I guess so." He paused. "If I fell in love with her, would Neechan be upset?"

Angrily, she didn't meet his eyes. "Of course not. I'd be glad for you."

"And glad for the break, huh?" Sorata laughed. "Maybe I should try it out, huh? For both of our sakes." From his smile, it was hard for Arashi to tell if he was joking.

* * *

x x x

* * *


	11. The Death Of Me

_so i moved to a new apartment and found myself without internet for two weeks. and spent most of that time writing saturday morning. (laugh) i think i'm obsessed...**  
**_

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x x x

* * *

_**!please note that saturday morning is rated R!**_

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x x x_**  
**_

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_**  
**_

_love will be the death of me_

_love will be the death of me_

_love will be the death of me._

_(bartender © regina spektor)_

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x x x

* * *

Salt water. Hokuto stood on the cliffs and breathed. Salt water. Salt water. Water. Salt. A few ghostly seagulls drifted in the air ahead, calling mournfully to one another every now and then. Salt, salt, _salt_. 

"Where are you?" she asked. All she'd ever had to do in the past was summon this place and he would be there. "Where are you?" He couldn't be dead. He must still be around. To Hokuto, he was the one person--the one thing--that was incapable of change. The one person she still remembered clearly. "Kakyo!"

She woke up:

Sorata was in the room, and looked surprised and guilty when she sat up in bed, eyes clear. "I--wasn't peeking in on you or anything," he said. "I was just checking on you."

"But not peeking in?" Hokuto asked, eyebrow raised. He grinned.

"You know what I mean. I think."

"You mean..." Hokuto was wearing a thin summery nightgown that only barely covered her thighs, and she slid out of bed. "You weren't _peeking_."

She woke up:

"Promise me," she said, a knife to Seishiro's throat. For a moment she _saw _him, saw him as a person instead of as Sei-chan, a man instead of a friend. His expression was surprised but his eyes were not, and for just that moment Hokuto saw and _knew _that his eyes were the only part he could not control, that he was amused, that she had amused him, that he saw her not as "Hokuto-chan" or a "friend" but as a--

_joke._

Press, she thought, eyes on her knife. What would happen? Would he die? Would he not? Would she? Would Su...

She woke up:

She sat up slowly in Arashi's bed, head spinning and face burning in recollection of her dreams. "Kakyo," she said, trying to pin the blame on him. Some people took great meaning from their dreams, but Hokuto believed that dreams were as a rule nonsense for normal people. She had gone to bed in the formal robes she was killed in, and she ran her fingers over the heavy cloth as she stood, feeling her nails catch on seams and folds. "But..."

Something was wrong. Hokuto had forgotten so much, though, that she didn't know what it could be. She slowly, silently, began to walk downstairs. Sorata would know. She wasn't stupid enough to think that he had really told her everything. He was keeping secrets.

In the dim of the hall--when had it gotten dark? Had Hokuto napped for that long?--Hokuto's robes seemed to glow an unearthly white, the blood stain blooming on her chest like a flower. She looked like a particularly convincing ghost, she thought, gliding down the stairs, silent, silent.

She woke? up?

And kissed Sorata who had-not-been-peeking, not because she wanted him but because she liked him. He made a startled noise and put his hands on her arms to push her away, but he didn't push her away and she smiled into his mouth. And she kissed him and threaded her fingers around his neck: because she hated him and envied him and wanted to ruin him.

Slitting his throat was smoother than she would have thought, his blood redder and hotter. Seishiro laughed at the attack, a hand at his neck, and kicked at her, landing rough on her shins and then, when she fell, her stomach. She stabbed his knees and laughed, spat blood from her own mouth when he hit her there. She laughed, surprised, as the knife slid into his stomach; she yanked the blade up his skin until it snagged in the bone of his ribs. Seishiro was not laughing any more, but Hokuto giggled as she peeled away his skin, fingernails digging between skin and muscle and tearing, blood welling and busting as her nails scratched open veins; he bled red and his bones were oh so _white_! Like an geologist, she dug down, deeper, knife and hands parting his skin and muscle--she ran a thumb against the smoothness of his rib and marveled.

(?...woke up...?)

Hokuto the convincing ghost glided downstairs to watch Sorata and Arashi, emotionless and unsurprised to see them together in the kitchen. Arashi was flushed and angry, pressed to him, legs spread and eyes closed and surprised by her own lust--

--hating Sorata, Hokuto took him to bed, eyes pressed closed so she wouldn't have to see. It was better not to think about it, better not to think about anything, just to lie sticky with eyes closed, blood blooming on her chest, blood from Seishiro

who fell, the hand covering his neck falling away. She crouched over him, trailing a finger over his smooth white ribs and into his broken stomach, her hand spilling gray coils of intestine that fell out onto the kitchen tiles. He wasn't dead quite yet, and she bent over him close enough that her hair fell feathery onto his face and she could see herself reflected bloody in his glass eyes. "And that's why I want you to kill me," she whispered

and the knife, grown into a sword, clattered to the floor and dissolved into black smoke, as Arashi lay for her lover, hating him and herself, angry and afraid at the feeling in her heart and stomach, tight and shaking. "Don't look at me," she wanted to say:

Sorata gave in at last and laughed out of nerves, kissing Hokuto as she took him to her bed (_Arashi's bed_), and her hands crept back up to his neck, tight and choking:

Seishiro lay on her kitchen floor, his hands hot and slick with blood. "You broke our vow," Hokuto said and kicked him and broke his arm and took the knife and slowly pressed it into his other eye, memorizing the squelching sound and then the rough scrape as it hit bone.

"I hate this," Hokuto said, crying as she killed Sorata, her fingers snapping into his neck, choking and then breaking, tearing into the flesh of his neck and drawing blood. Arashi watched, pressed against the wall unblinking, and when Hokuto was finished she sat up, naked and wet with tears: blood, sticky and red, running from between her legs:

Arashi wanted to tell him to stop, wanted to tell him to never stop, wanted to open her eyes, wanted to never breathe again--to never move again. She gasped and her hair stuck to her back from sweat; she bit her lip and felt disgusting, cheap, easy: she analyzed every moment and pressed her eyes closed so tightly that it hurt. She reached up to him blindly and kissed him hard, her hands on his face and in his hair and around his neck--her grip was tight and so was she--she gaspingly fell in love with him, wanting him to hurt.

With his dying breath, he reached and laid a bloody hand upon her heart, blood that smelt like copper and

salt

water.

She woke up.

* * *

x x x

* * *


	12. Constellation

* * *

x x x

* * *

When Hokuto woke up, heart racing and slick from sweat, it had taken her several minutes to ascertain that it wasn't another dream. When she had convinced herself that this was reality, Hokuto got up in a flash, wanting nothing more to do with sleep. Although she had taken enough sleeping medicine to knock her out for the entire afternoon and night, she felt wide awake. It had only been two hours.

"Sorata-kun," she called, heading down the stairs. When he didn't at once reply she became anxious, wondering if this was just another nightmare after all. "Sora-_chaaan_. Arashi-chan--anyone here?" The answer, apparently, was no, and Hokuto noticed that Sorata's sneakers and Arashi's boots were both missing from the doorway. Where could they have gone? What was happening?

(_the blood welled up inside her before escaping the hole, streaking down her slowly, slow--there was a pressure tight and sharp as he pushed further inside her, killing her, killing her, a hand through her heart--)_

"God, how freudian," Hokuto muttered, pretending anger to mask the fear and panic that had suddenly welled up in her. There was a note on the kitchen table -- labeled HOKUTO-CHAN in katakana -- that she read quickly, relieved. Sorata's handwriting was messy from haste, but to Hokuto's mild surprise he actually had good penmanship.

_HOKUTO-CHAN_

_Neechan and I have been called away, _the letter read. _I don't think you'll be awake before we return, but this is just in case you are. Kamui and Yuzuriha-chan have run into some trouble. Kamui didn't ask for our help, but since it involves--_this part was scribbled out--_the "bad guys," Neechan and I went to help. Don't worry, we can take care of ourselves. _

_There's leftovers in the refrigerator if you get hungry, and ingredients for dinner if you feel like cooking (if you don't want it, we also have stuff for curry). We'll be back safely soon._

_From,_

_"Your cute little Sora-chan."_

Her first thought was that if Sorata was in a good enough mood to sign his letter like that, not to mention detail the house's food situation, the problem must not be a very serious one. Hokuto was about to leave it at that, but the scribbled out section caught her eye. She could almost read the first part--Sorata had scribbled over it, but he had done so quickly, leaving half of the first kanji uncovered. Of course that didn't help very much--and it probably wasn't important--but when Hokuto glanced at the letter again, she frowned. Whatever Sorata had crossed out, it was completely different from what he had written after. She looked at the kanji again and sat down roughly on one of the kitchen chairs as she suddenly recognized it.

_Subaru_.

"Subaru:" The Pleiades, a constellation of seven stars that partially made up the little dipper. And "Hokuto," a constellation of seven stars that made up the big dipper. Subaru and Hokuto. A matching set of names. Hokuto stared down at the note, physically still but mind racing. _But since it involves Subaru_--Subaru crossed out--_the "bad guys"_--Subaru and Hokuto. Matching names. The 13th Clan Head. _But I'm an only child_.

Subaru.

_Let's go stargazing! _

Hokuto broke out into a sweat again, straining for answers. She was so _close_, she could feel it--but there was something in the way. A wall. There were chinks in the wall, little holes for little pieces of memory, but the wall itself still stood strong. "Let's go stargazing," Hokuto said quietly. She had said that once, but to who? Subaru? Why? _Because we're a "pair_._"_ Because--

Hokuto was startled to realize she was bleeding. She'd clenched her fists so tightly that her nails had broken through the skin. Hokuto stood up from her chair slowly, walking into the kitchen in search of paper towels. Maybe memory loss was normal when you came back from the dead. There was no use in pushing something that wasn't going to come, she decided, turning on the sink and letting water run over her hands.

_(!hands!)_

"But... Subaru has something to do with all of this," Hokuto said quietly, shaking off whatever thought had just tried to grab her. "He's not just a background character. He's the Sumeragi Clan head, so if anyone knows anything..." Sorata had told her to stay put, and had tried to hide Subaru's involvement in it from her. Sorata had spoken to her grandmother and hidden the details of _that _from her, too. He seemed nice and friendly, but... he was keeping an awful lot quiet. And Hokuto didn't like that.

_Choking him, choking him, the cracking of the bones in his neck--_

"_Ugh_," Hokuto muttered, drying her hands on a papertowel, using it to blot the small spots of blood. She was a little annoyed with Sorata, but not nearly _that _much. If she had known she would have dreams like that, she never would have tried to contact Kakyo to begin with. But speaking of which... wasn't it odd that he hadn't replied? He couldn't be dead, too, could he? But he had never ignored her before...

...She'd never had a dream quite like that before, either. Normally her nightmares were more generic zombie-in-the-closet types. "There's no way there's a connection," Hokuto told herself, deciding she needed to stop thinking about it (and also deciding that was was talking to herself far too much). "I'll just try again tonight."

For now, the priority was Subaru.

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x x x

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	13. You

_ugh. this chapter gave me serious grief to write, so i apologize in advance for the inherent sloppiness. to make up for it, there's plot like woah in here. i need to work on raising the crack contact again, i think... (laugh)_

_by the way - this is something i feel is relevant and you all will probably find pointless - the current time in the story is around 2 PM on Saturday, September 18th, 1999. in terms of x's timeline, the story takes place shortly before x-17, a month after subaru and seishiro's confrontation on the rainbow bridge. it's been thirteen chapters but only four hours... (laugh) and yes, the trainwreck is building up speed... _

_please find this chapter redeemable.  
_

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x x x

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"Subaru," Kamui said, his voice clear despite the emotion he felt. Subaru, who was missing, Subaru, who loved the enemy best, Subaru, who Kamui had once thought he might fall in love with.

Subaru, whose eyes no longer were the same color.

Subaru caught Yuzuriha as she fell, carrying her in his arms and gently laying her down on the bench. Inuki growled at its mistress' attacker, but halfheartedly, laying down on Yuzuriha's stomach protectively with ears down. Kamui watched with confusion and anger and felt torn. "What did you _do_?"

Subaru had walked up to them, greeted them, and cast a spell on Yuzuriha--all in the space of a minute. "This doesn't concern her," he said. "Don't worry. She's only asleep."

"But you attacked her! And Karen as well!" Anger was the easiest of the emotions Kamui was facing.

As if Subaru hadn't heard, he spoke as though thinking aloud, amending his statements."...This doesn't concern you, either, but I trust you."

That hurt more than it should have, a proclamation of faith made too late. "Tell me what's going on! If you trust me, than trust me with the details!" Kamui snapped.

Subaru looked him over and smiled faintly. "My sister. She was dead, you know that. But I found a way... Kamui. I could help you, too. I could bring back _your_ girl. Wouldn't that make you happy, to see her again? Kotori."

Kamui stepped backwards. "Y...yes. But--" There was something wrong with this, some argument he couldn't find the words to make. There were people he wanted to see again, but you weren't supposed to bring back the dead--it was--_bad_. But Kamui couldn't find the words to say why it was bad, why it shouldn't be done. Just like not killing people, not bringing them back was--was just how things _were_. Even her, even Kotori--even though he dreamt of her most nights, her and her death, Kamui--he couldn't see her again. He shouldn't--he--wanted to but didn't want to all at once; it was _his fault_ she was dead, not because of an action on his part but because he had been born, because he was _Kamui_, because--

"...Yes," Subaru said. "It took me a long time to find a way. I started thinking about it--bringing Neesan back to me--after she died. But back then, for one reason or another, I couldn't. I didn't have the power. Or the will."

"But then when the Sakurazukamori died..." Kamui said flatly, throwing his thoughts of Kotori aside, a twisted yarn ball of ideas.

"Yes. I had the will _and _the power," Subaru said, looking at his gloved hands. "But I don't know if the spell worked perfectly. She didn't appear where I expected to, and I've lost her." He frowned, and Kamui wondered when Subaru's emotions had become so... simple. Angry, happy, sad. Uncomplicated. "I _need _to find her, before..." Subaru looked at Kamui directly for the first time since he had knocked out Yuzuriha. "...Tell me. Where is she?"

"I don't know," Kamui said angrily. "Why would I?"

"You're lying. You're _Kamui_. You should know." Subaru's demeanor changed to angry in a moment, and Kamui remembered Karen on the phone--her voice thick because of a bloody nose, given to her by Subaru when she refused to help him. He seemed the same, but he wasn't. Kamui clenched his fists.

"I _don't_ know. If you try to fight me, I'll win," he added.

Subaru smiled gently at him. "No. You won't win because you don't want to fight me. But don't worry, Kamui. I won't hurt you." There was an emphasis on 'you' that Kamui didn't like. "Just tell me where my sister is. As soon as I find her, I can prepare the spell again. For you. We can bring back your girl. I just need Neesan."

"Why?" Just before Subaru had arrived, Yuzuriha had called Sorata. He had promised to head right over. How long did it take to get here from CLAMP Campus? Even though Subaru had just promised not to fight him, Kamui didn't want to be alone with Subaru. He glanced over to Yuzuriha, sleeping on the bench. "Why do you need your sister?"

"I don't know if the spell succeeded. I know she's alive, but I don't know..." Subaru made a vague gesture. "If her appearance is correct. Her age. Her mind. I need to know before I try to bring back anyone else. Kotori." He frowned. "Kamui. Just tell me where she is. I won't harm you, and I certainly won't harm her. Why are you so reluctant?"

"Because I told you! I don't know where she is!" And even if I did, he thought, I don't think I'd tell you. Subaru seemed the same, but he wasn't. Underneath, Subaru wasn't the same at all. Kamui wished Sorata would hurry and arrive. "Why do you think I would?"

Subaru smiled faintly again. "The Dragons of Heaven are patrolling Tokyo today. Magic is attracted to other magic. It makes sense that Neesan would end up in the company of one of you. And Karen-san said..."

"She was lying. She didn't know," Kamui said. "She told you me because she thought... it would do you good to see me..." he flushed slightly at that, embarrassed by the implication.

Subaru's look was gentle. "And it does do me good. I'm glad to see you well. You're afraid, but I wouldn't harm you." Again, the emphasis was on _you_.

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x x x

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